Page 14 of Obsession of the Egoist
“I don’t believe you.” Kuon breathed, swallowing the lump at the back of his throat.
“Your call, but that’s the truth.” Hitting the brake, Gray added, “Arrived.”
PROBING HIS WAY OUT OF THE BATHROOMwith his foot, Kuon ruffled his wet hair. Gray had left half an hour ago, promising to return late at night. Kuon didn’t mind. Being alone was better than keeping that uncomfortable conversation going; at least, he thought so. The memories hurt his pride and dignity. He wanted to sink into the serenity of emotional numbness he had been in for the last few months.
The conditioner, blowing cold air, dried the droplets of water on his skin, making him shiver. His first thought of looking for a remote disappeared as he realized its impracticability. The room was big and unfamiliar. It would take him hours to search. Turning around, he stumbled back to the bathroom. Hand slapping the wall, he found a bathrobe and tugged it on. Wiping the trickle of water off his neck with his sleeve, Kuon plodded to the room again.
“Kuon, I thought you might get hungry, so I orde… My fucking god.” Air shifted with the motion, and icy hands cupped his face. Kuon flinched away from the touch, realizing his bandages were off. “Open your eyes.”
“No.” The burn, starting somewhere behind his eyes, transferred to his face, to his throat, until it inflamed his lungs. Biting his lips to stop them from quivering, Kuon shook his head.
“It’s okay, baby brother. Let me see.” The fear and concern in Gray’s voice felt real, and for a second, Kuon wanted to trust him. “Please.”
Gulping back the sour saliva that flooded his mouth, Kuon opened his eyes but saw only swirling gray fog clouded around him. For the first time since the reunion, he hoped that Gray would say something, but minutes passed in silence. Only when Kuon closed his eyes and shied away, did Gray’s gravelly voice break the stretched pause.
“Change of plans. You won’t meet Mom. We’ll go to the hospital tomorrow.”
WHEN A GUARDSAID THAT HIS LAWYERwaited for him, Rick shrugged but followed. After entering the prison meeting room, he glanced over his shoulder, expecting the guard to inform him that he’d entered the wrong room, as this posh man couldn’t possibly be here to see him. When a manicured hand pushed a contract toward him over the metal table, he grabbed the back of the chair, bolted to the floor, and took a seat. For a long ten minutes, he stared at the man, examining his freckled face and red hair, expensive designer suit, and gold watch.
“This must be a mistake,” Rick finally said, pushing the contract back with two fingers.
“There is no mistake, Herr Kainz. Sign the contract.” The smile on the thin lips didn’t reach the light-green eyes of the man who never bothered to introduce himself.
At that moment, Rick thought that if there were a devil out in the world buying souls, he would look exactly like this. Arrogant, disinterested, even bored.
“I can’t afford you,” Rick said, pushing the paper back.
“Oh, I know you can’t.” The lawyer’s lips twitched as if Rick had said something funny before the man pushed the paper toward him again. “My fee has been covered by someone else. You only have to sign the contract.”
Rick didn’t believe him, and for the next hour, he read the contract three times, but failing to find a scam, he eventually signed.
Hearing after hearing, he was dragged in and out of court before the charges had been dropped and he was released. Standing at the gates of the federal prison, he stared at the sky, unable to believe that he was once again a free man. He’d made his peace with his sentence months ago, expecting to spend eight years in prison, eating shitty food, and sleeping on a bad bunk. Now, a world of possibilities lay open in front of him, making him appreciate this unexpected second chance.
The screech of tires brought his attention from the cloudless blue sky to the black Cadillac CTS that stopped in front of him. The passenger door flew open, and a husky, charred voice invited him in, “Hop in, Sergeant Kainz. Let me give you a lift.”
Here it is,Rick thought, remembering the old proverb: ‘Free cheese only comes in traps’. Still, he got in, thinking that whatever the man had to offer, most likely it was worth eight years of freedom. Getting comfortable in the seat, he examined the luxury atmosphere of the ivory and mahogany interior, before he linked his eyes with the silver ones of the stranger. The sharp clean-shaven chin and angular cheekbones only accented his x-ray-like stare. Rick would have estimated the man to be in his early thirties, if not for his completely silver hair.
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Richard,” the man said, smiling. “My name is Gray. I’m Kuon’s brother. Mind joining me for a ride? I’d like to show you something.”
“Kuon has a family?” Rick asked, frowning. They had served together for more than a year, but Rick knew nothing about it.
“He doesn’t talk much, does he? I figured that I’ll get a better chance of understanding him if I talk to you.” Gray’s unblinking eyes made Rick feel uneasy. He shrugged, and Gray continued. “I’d like to know more about what happened to him there, in Afghanistan. Would you enlighten me? How did you two meet? What was he like there?”
Is this why he pulled me out of jail? To ask about Kuon? He could have just visited…Confused, Rick glanced at the man again. Gray’s wolfish face with thin, aristocratic features had nothing similar to Kuon’s honest and open lineaments. But Rick couldn’t find another reason why a stranger would be interested in Kuon’s service years unless this was a provocation.
“How do I know you’re Kuon’s brother? You look nothing alike,” he finally asked.
Gray laughed. When he stopped, a glint of curiosity settled in the depth of his eyes. “I like people who think before they speak. You’re right, Kuon and I aren’t blood-related. He was adopted into my family when he was little.” Fishing his phone out of the pocket of his gray suit, Gray swiped the screen, tapped it a few times with his finger, before showing Rick a picture of two kids. The older boy was around fifteen and already had salt and pepper hair, another one was about eight and wore a gloomy expression. No mistake—it was Kuon.
“I met Kuon during his first year in Afghanistan.” Rick started, feeling uneasy. To ease the discomfort, he rolled his shoulders and looked out of the window at the gray winter streets. “That year, we had lots of fresh meat. The lines of the peacemakers thickened with cannon fodder—young and stupid boys who could barely reload a gun. And that’s in the country where six-year-old kids are already professional murderers. It was a bloodbath. When Kuon was assigned to our division, I thought he was one of those young idiots who romanticized the war.
“Our first raid proved me wrong.” Rick turned his attention to Gray. “He didn’t romanticize anything, and he knew how to handle the weapons. ‘Crazy Kuon’, that’s what we called him. He was insane; everybody hated him. No one wanted to be paired with him because he didn’t seem to have any respect for life. He didn’t follow protocols. All he did was pull the trigger. At first, he was lucky. The bullets avoided him for some reason, and people thought he was possessed.” Noticing the smirk on Gray’s lips, Rick added, “It would be funny if you aren’t in the middle of the war where everyone has a gun and can shoot at your back. I can’t remember all the times our own people had a go at him, thinking he was cursed. At least three of the attacks were genuine attempts on his life.”
Gray’s smile dimmed, and Rick continued, “People avoided him, but it didn’t bother him. He never talked to anybody unless it was necessary. He never smiled. He was the same as the gun he held. He just wanted to kill, or that was what we thought.”
“It sounds like you hate him.” Gray’s eyes glinted with ice as his voice became smooth, oily.
“I did, for a long time.” Rick didn’t lie. “Not anymore.”
